You do not need me to tell you that “The Hottie and the Nottie” is not a good movie. You already know this. For starters, it stars people like Paris Hilton, Joel David Moore, and a comedian who insists we call him “The Greg Wilson.” Also, it is called “The Hottie and the Nottie.” Might as well have titled it “Obviously You Are Never Going To Want To See This Movie.”

It is, as you may have guessed, a completely vile little film, the sort of romantic comedy that could only have been produced by semi-retarded aliens whose only knowledge of earth comes from TMZ.com, VH1 reality shows, and Dane Cook movies. This is a movie in which horrible people try to be nice to other horrible people in the hopes of having sex with other horrible people; meanwhile, many horrible people fart. Hope I didn’t ruin the ending for you.

Moore, previously best known as the nerdy guy in “Dodgeball,” stars as Nate Cooper, a thickskulled doofus who deserves it when ex-girlfriends spray paints “loser” on his car. With all other romantic options failing, Nate moves to Los Angeles to track down a girl he crushed on when both were in the first grade. The girl grew up to be Christabel Abbott, a vapid, VD-ridden, anorexic mouthbreather who apparently is unbelievably popular despite having no talents or occupation - making her the perfect character for celebrity glory hole Paris Hilton.

Nate wants nothing more than to have dirty, dirty sex with Christabel, but standing in his way is June Phigg (Christine Lakin), the ugliest girl in town. And oh, the ugly: the movie’s low budget Geico Caveman makeup job leaves her looking like a reject from a Tex Avery cartoon and nothing that could actually pass for human. Nate’s dumbass pal, Arno (“The Greg Wilson”), mumbles something about how the hotter the gal, the uglier her best friend, which was probably the one-sentence pitch that got this movie greenlit in the first place.

Paris-haters will squirm at the non-stop mentions of Christabel’s beauty. Perhaps as a defense against all those claims that Hilton is not, in fact, “hot,” she’s crapped out this little vanity project in which everyone spends all their time talking about her attractiveness. Self-esteem issues, have we?

(Hilton also gets to spout Zen philosophy - or her sad, special ed version of it, anyway - throughout the movie, with Christabel delivering such nuggets as “A life without orgasms is like a world without flowers.” It’s Hilton’s way of insisting she’s “smart” and “thoughtful” and “not illiterate.”)

Nate and Arno hatch a plan: Nate will lie about having a great job, and lie about actually liking June, and lie about everything ever, and ultimately Christabel will bone him. June, meanwhile, will fart a lot and have a weird unibrow and brown teeth, but she will also sometimes stop being a complete bitch to everyone around her (although I’d be a bitch too if everyone threw up whenever they looked at me) and say pithy things. In an effort to not hurl every time she’s around, Nate treats June to a makeover, which kickstarts a chain of events that transforms the “nottie” (“The Greg Wilson,” being completely useless as an actor, pronounces it “naughty”) into the (sigh) “hottie.” At which time Nate decides he’s in love with June, not Christabel. Somewhere along the line, June also stops farting in public.

It should be noted that everyone in this movie drinks constantly. In nearly every scene, somebody’s sipping a wine cooler, or downing some brew, or getting piss-drunk on whatever’s available. Who can blame them? If I lived in their world, of horrid people and horrid actions, I’d want to be blitzed non-stop too.

“The Hottie” is written by Heidi Ferrer, and at times it seems like she’s crafting a sly parody of the romcom and beauty-and-beast genres - until you discover with great dismay that no, there’s no clever subverting of hackneyed material. The script’s too dumb for that. It is instead a weak attempt at mixing romance and gross-out comedy, by someone who does not understand either.

Director Tom Putnam, meanwhile, has a visual style all his own. Is the camera on, and kinda pointed at whoever’s talking? Is there enough light to make sure we can see the actors? Are most of the camera crew out of the way? Congratulations! You are now a better director than Tom Putnam.

Lakin does her best to reconcile the “makes you vomit” and “ultimately becomes a hottie” aspects of her character, and comes across as inoffensively as possible, making her the only not-entirely-terrible thing about this movie. Moore, meanwhile, tries way too hard to be off-the-cuff funny, lacking the charisma or quick wit to succeed. Hilton memorizes some of her lines, making this the finest performance of her career. “The Greg Wilson” manages to out-horrible them both.

So congratulations, “The Greg Wilson”! You’ve managed to be the worst thing in a Paris Hilton movie! Now go away, and take this movie with you.